Sunday, October 16, 2005

blurred around the edges

It has been one of those weeks where the social fairy has been visiting and whisking me around the town with her magic wand. Socially I am more a sprinter, than a marathon woman. I like short, well spaced doses of company and indulgences. But this was not to be. From St Kilda on Wednesday, for a delicious meal (as always) at Ciccolina (carpaccio of tuna, chilli fish cakes, salad, Otago Pinot, Peppertree shiraz) followed by too much frangelico at the lobby bar - with 2 men I love and adore. To the double act on Friday night - drinks after work with those pursuing artistic endeavours in Degraves Street,







Friday enroute from the fed square...this triptych sums up the night

to more vodka with bloggers in Northcote, to an indecently late but fabulous Sri lankan meal at Sigri (masala thosa to die for, tuna curry, coconut-y vegetables and an incredible kind of onion jam and anchovy sambal).

Saturday was a leisurely lunch of seafood linguine in the sun at the Kent (lime and soda, I was pacing myself), to dinner with a friend (home made sweet potato tortilla and a killer salad) and then partying with all and sundry. Vague memories. An offer to have the piss taken out of me on national radio by a couple of young, follicularly challenged comedians. Wedding gift solutions to ponder (with a fellow loather of matrimonials). A sweet moment where potential embarrasment was turned on its head. Old friends, new friends.

This morning was just me and Princess Prissy Paws, curled up in bed, both awake indecently early. The only good thing about waking up too early on the weekend is the joy of making a coffee, grabbing yesterday's unread paper (fantastic article in The Good Weekend about the failure of chemotherapy) and listening to the sexy Mr Tim Thorpe while dozing between the sheets.

Bugger it, I think I will just crawl back in there and do it for the rest of the day.

This blog was going to be about how the Australian media report world disasters (earthquakes, mudslides...) that kill tens of thousands of non Australians, versus bombings et al where our nationals are killed in single digits. This blog was going to contemplate the atrocity that is the proposed industrial relations massacre. This blog might have turned into a rant about a conversation with an ignorant med student and my despair for the future of complementary medicine.

But it wasn't.

Vacuous and self centred again. Sorry, just knackered.

(note to self: spelling and grammar worse than usual, far too many adjectives, zealous over use of commas - must try harder next time)

6 Comments:

Blogger Chai said...

Self-centred blog? What else is a blog supposed to be then? BTW, like the pics. Just the way it's framed. Dont know.

7:19 pm  
Blogger Crystal said...

'just knackered' but how lovely to be knackered by having a prolonged good time.
I agree completely with your final para and relevant to that, I hope you had a night in tonight and saw The Girl In The Cafe on Ch2.

10:51 pm  
Blogger Another Outspoken Female said...

chai - blame the framing on a very cheeky bottle of pinot.
chrystal - flaked out on guru rex's couch, being fed organic chocolate and blueberries.

Its a tough life.

2:09 pm  
Blogger flying kiwi said...

Stay self-centred, it's all good. You're making me hanker for Melbourne - I'm sure I'll be looking for any excuse to drive the 3 hours once I've had a few weeks in Albury-Wodonga.

8:40 am  
Blogger Chai said...

No, no... I like the framing... gives it the edginess it needs... it's appropriate...

7:30 am  
Blogger Susanne said...

Woah! Drunk-cam

1:09 pm  

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